Inspection
by Sparring Woodpecker
Summary: Hermione gets sent to inspect Pansy's business. Prompt inside. Rated M to be on the safe side although it's probably a T. FEMSLASH, don't like, don't read. I don't own the characters.


**Prompt: Can be AU or post-war. Pansy owns a bar and brothel near the slums of a muggle community. Hermione is in the sanitary department tasked to check the establishment. After checking the building, business license, liquor permit, and the lavatories, Pansy offers a taste of the wares. Hermione thinks she is talking about the girls of the brothel, but in truth, Pansy is just offering her some of the liquor at the bar. Cue a lot of confusion and flirting between the two.**

**A/N: Thanks to Elleon Stormwrath, written for IDF 2013.**

"Mrs Smith I presume?" Pansy drawled with out looking up from the magazine concealed within paperwork that she was reading behind the desk.

"No, Miss Parkinson, Ms Granger."

Pansy's head snaps up and she glares as the bushy haired woman before her. "The department of magical law enforcement thought it better to send someone more knowledgeable in your affairs to inspect your business."

"More knowledgeable?" Pansy scoffed "I highly doubt that." Pansy ran a bar, side along to a brothel, no the pure, mighty, honourable and brainy Granger would not know about this particular line of business.

"You sell magical beverages do you not?" Pansy rolled her eyes as she realised that all Granger was referring to was the fact that Mrs Smith was a muggle.

"Sanitation department seems a bit bellow you." Pansy remarked casually standing up and leading the other woman over to her office.

"It's merely temporary, besides it does have some perks." There was a glint in Hermione's eye as she said this causing Pansy to think of the girls she had downstairs and just exactly what perks the woman could be talking about.

"Long time no see. Last time I saw you, you were about to enter a scholarship in St Mungo's, you were engaged to Weasley and wanted house elf liberations. Now you're stuck inspecting toilets and you've married the ginger."

"Actually I didn't marry Ron. The Ms is only there to stop some of the men I have to see taking advantage of me."

"Oh, that's a nice nugget of information; care to elaborate as to why you and Weasley didn't tie the knot?" Pansy placed a stack of paper on the desk before Hermione who immediately began shifting through them, a slight blush rising up her neck.

"We had our differences and I realised that he wasn't what I wanted. Where is your liquor permit?" Hermione queried whilst pouring over the business licence to check for any discrepancies. Pansy pointed to a framed certificate hanging from the wall behind the desk. Hermione rolled her eyes and stared pointedly at Pansy who huffed but stood up on the chair to get it down. She felt Hermione's eyes quickly slide down her legs, which were well displayed in her miniskirt. She turned round to find Hermione with her head bent so far that it looked like she was sniffing the paper, just like old times.

She placed the permit on the desk and Hermione quickly reached for it.

"Well that seems to all be in order. Now if you could take me to each of the rooms I can inspect your hygiene standards." Pansy swallowed slightly at the statement before replying.

"Some of the rooms may be in use…"

"Don't worry, I'll be fine." Pansy face coloured as she imagined Hermione standing and watching the girls below with their clients, she shook her head to clear her mind of the image, but it was solidly imprinted there. She led her round the establishment, getting to the basement last of all. She didn't know if she was relieved or disappointed when it turned out that Hermione could check the hygiene of a room through a door with the same spell she had used for all the other rooms.

Pansy took Hermione into the bar and sat down next to her to wait for the witch's verdict. Hermione grinned devilishly at the slightly nervous look on Pansy's face.

"So, why did you decide to go into this line of work?"

"After the war I didn't really have many options, most of our year group re-sat their exams but McGonagall wouldn't let me back after I tried to turn Potter in. Nobody really wants to employ you if you don't have NEWTs, unless you're Potter in which case you could become anything you want." Hermione nodded involuntarily at this statement, it was true, nearly everyone had been forced to sit their NEWTs the following year but Harry had been offered his dream job right away, perks of killing the dark lord she supposed. "Any way, Draco was in much the same predicament and he went into dealing objects at Borgin and Burkes, I wanted to disassociate myself with anything to do with the dark arts so Draco stopped trying to convince me to work with him and instead suggested I start my own business. He said I'd make a good land-lady. So I set up shop but I knew I had to do something special, something different, to attract the magical community, who could magically go from one end of the country to another to go to the best bar. So I added a brothel, there seemed to be demand for it. I never worked in it myself, of course, but that didn't stop Draco calling me some pretty nasty things. I don't talk to him anymore. But my business does well, I cater for muggles and magical alike. It makes no difference to me any more, as long as they're willing to pay."

"Nice to see you're broadening your mind Parkinson."

"Right back at you."

"What?"

"Well who'd expect for the great Hermione Granger to demean herself by visiting a brothel, in broad daylight as well, tut-tut." Pansy wagged a finger at Hermione and smirked naughtily. "So tell me, did my very lowly and dirty establishment please your highness."

"I might have to make you grovel a bit first. I get timed to do this sort of thing and they don't exactly approve of employees using magic to check rooms, so I have a bit of time to kill."

"In that case, would you like to try some of my products, my special products?" Pansy lowered her voice for the last bit as a muggle man, who was one of the regulars at the bar, came in. Hermione blushed and looked a bit confused as Pansy quickly went to pour the man his usual beer. "Your school favourite?" Pansy called from over at the pump. She didn't wait for a reply before pouring the bushy haired woman a butterbeer and one for herself, hoping to ingratiate the woman who would decide the future of her business.

Hermione smiled gratefully and took a sip of the beverage. "Let's go somewhere a little more private." Pansy suggested, Hermione's eyes widened but she followed anyway. Pansy only wanted to get away from the muggles so they could talk openly; she hadn't properly talked to anyone from the magical community for so long.

"So what kind of prices do you charge?" Hermione asked reaching for her purse, intent on paying for the butterbeer.

"Well it depends, and then of course you've got the exchange rate. I advertise my prices as £100 an hour but it varies depending on what happens. You don't have to pay." Pansy set a hand on Hermione's wrist as she reached into her bag. Hermione's face lit up red as a beacon. Pansy smiled to herself, she knew exactly what the saint of a girl had been asking and she enjoyed messing with her.

"So you don't…"

"I don't let people pay for me. I'm very selective about who I go for, it's more for me than for them, although I do use my personal room on the premises." She purred the word personal and delighted as she watched Granger shiver.

"How…How much business do you get?" Granger squeaked.

"It varies, depends on the holiday season, when pay-day is, other events on although the men are more likely to show up anyway."

"So… So you get women to?"

"Don't be so naïve Granger. Don't pretend the thought hasn't crossed your mind." Pansy trailed a finger up Hermione's forearm. Hermione locked eyes with Pansy and breathed in sharply. Is it possible that this woman could know that that was the reason she had broken of her engagement to Ron. Those pesky feelings she used to harbour for his sister? No, she couldn't do, only Hermione and Ginny knew the real reason why Hermione couldn't marry Ron. Pansy was just messing with her. "Delicate kisses, feather light touches." Pansy leaned in as she spoke so that she was right next to Hermione's ear whilst still being provocatively perched on her desk "Just imagine what _magic_ you could do with that wand of yours." Pansy let the sentence hang in the air as Hermione subconsciously licked her lips and her breathing picked up pace. "Let me show you." She grabbed Hermione's hand and disapparated to her personal room. The walls were blood red and a large bed took up most of the space in the room. Hermione shivered with anticipation and Pansy pulled her wand out of the garter on her thigh.

"I should be… You passed congratulations. I should really be…"

"On your back?" Pansy asked with a smirk, not leaving any room for argument.


End file.
